


The Beauty Queen and The Voodoo King

by DanySilver



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anger, F/M, Friendship, Psycho, dispicable, ghost - Freeform, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanySilver/pseuds/DanySilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-------------------------------------------------------------<br/>Just some stories that I thought of.<br/>I know it's a bunch of impossible situations,<br/>but what's better than some random One-Shots?</p><p>Don't be shy, come on and check them out!<br/>Tell me what you think ;)</p><p>              -- [ The Heroes of Olympus ]<br/>                   [ (PJO) Fandom present ] --<br/>-------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>1) A PJO Contest Story:<br/>-- VOODOO, STRINGS, AND BLUE HUED WINGS --</p><p>2) A HOO Oneshot:<br/>-- THE SENATE HOUSE FEATHER </p><p>3) A Thanksgiving Oneshot<br/>-- THE YELLOW SCARF</p><p>4) A New Years Oneshot <br/>--THE FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. VOODOO, STRINGS, AND BLUE HUED WINGS

 

 **SITTING**  in an abandoned Air-Hanger in Germany wasn't exactly what Piper had in mind for her 'Trial'. Her mother had told her about a trial. Something that was important that she had to learn.

_It better be patience, because there isn't anything else here..._

Looking around, the girl didn't know which category this situation would fall under. Was it an embarrassing situation, like the time she had tricked this cop to drive her-- in her exact words-- 'to someplace nice', and he drove her to some secluded spot where the poor fellow had probably had his first kiss...

Or

An Awkward situation. To be in that exact same situation when that cop woke up out of her charm-speak and started staring at this teenager grinning at him from the front seat where his partner should have been.

_This might just be a perfect combination of the two..._

The girl sighed into her face and glanced at her 'captive'. He was tied up with the nylon laces she had to undo from her boots, and he was _not_ happy.

"So..." Piper tried to start a conversation. Tired of the itchy quiet that befell the place right after she caught and tied up the blond. Germany's abandoned old war hangars were not exactly welcoming. "You do voodoo? _And_ you can see the Strings of Fate-" Octavian interrupted swiftly.

"Yes." The boy saw Piper's skepticism and cringed almost. Swallowing loudly and started again he tried to force his voice to sound calmer. Steadier. Something that Piper thought was a waste of time, seeing that the blond's left eye still twitched. "I mean. Somewhat... I can see them somewhat."

"Somewhat?" The girl questioned.

He sighed and glanced around, as if not looking at her directly was some form of rebellion. Piper rolled her eyes. "I _mean_... I can see a very thin-- faint-- tracing of them. So in a way," he shrugged, "I can see them."

"But in a way, you can't." Piper smiled as he scowled at her. "So Voodoo, strands, and... birds...?" Piper's brows knitted together in confusion.

"Yes. I'm a whole hodge-podge of shit loosely stitched together... Fabulous aren't I?" He said dryly.

"... What are the birds for?" Piper asked.

"I used them to understand the will of the gods." He answered.

"So... what's up with all the teddy bears you slaughtered?" Piper scratched her leg.

"With the birds you have to wait for the gods to tell you something extremely important, it always happens way too close to the date the gods want their wills fulfilled or the danger they're warning us about's debut day and you also have to be there at the same time of the occurrence, and if you're not you'll have to rely on a half-assed account given to you by some random bystander." Octavian shook his head suddenly, tired of explaining himself. "Long story short, it's a lot of damn work."

"Oh... so you slicing up teddy bears is _easier_?" Piper's eyes brightened as she understood.

The boy sighed. "It's not easy on the wrists... But it's at least more practical than going bird watching while everyone awaits for the signal to prepare for war."

"You used to use birds... So what made you stop?"

"..." Octavian stopped talking for a while, his Adam's apple dipped as he swallowed to soothe the knot forming in his throat. He cleared it and raised his chin slightly, "The prediction I made a year ago came too late... and... a camper-well, several campers-that I... associated with were, ah, injured."

He blinked rapidly as he spoke softer, "One of them got seriously injured." His blue eyes never left the floor as he spoke in his usual indignant way.

Piper would have been more annoyed, but watching the young man's tears stream down his bruised cheek, wasn't exactly giving out that gleaming aura that sang ass-hole.

"I'm so sorry." Her voice was hushed like a whisper and it made the boy squeeze his eyes shut, and his jaw clench.

Octavian snarled, "I don't want your pathetic, sorry," he glared at her with so much hatred, "Cut me out of these restraints, now!" Piper jumped when he yelled at her. His voice didn't squeak like she thought it would.

She remembered her friends talking to her re-assumingly through the blade of her knife. They-well, she-had finally found Octavian and had apprehended him and managed to tie the slimy rascal up. It was hard work, but more nerve racking than she thought it would be. The blond was a lot stronger and swifter than she had guessed.

_"Just imagine him as a very angry mouse," Hazel smiled widely over the static transmittance that reflected through into her blade. She tried not to giggle, "One that squeaks in a high pitched voice when it yells. Nothing to worry about, I promise." Annabeth leaned into the frame and squished her face in, her usually serious face alight with a small smile, "Yeah, just ignore him. It's not like he can do anything."_

End of transmission.

_So much for that advice..._

"You know I can't do that." She cringed at the sight of the boy struggling regardless of what she said. The rope was rubbing away at his thin wrists and the sight of the raw flesh made her sick.

It reminded her of those youtube videos that showed tapes of animal slaughter houses to reveal where the chicken breasts and beef steaks we see in the frozen section came from.

Just one of the many many reasons she was a vegetarian. "Stop! I'm not going to release you, and you're not getting out of the restraints like that-"

"Let me GO!" The guy bellowed to the ceiling. When he was finished he was strewn on the floor, still secured to the table leg, his neat pale blond hair now unkempt and himself disheveled. His ice blue eyes regarded her with savage malevolence.

Piper faltered. "I-I can't..."

He squeezed his eyes shut and a few more tears slipped out as he turned his back to her. He sat up and leaned his head on the leg of the table in defeat, "Then, just stay away from me." He whispered, "I think I speak for both of us when I say neither you nor I wanted to be in each other's damn company..."

Piper didn't know what to say. That display of raw anger was shocking coming from that boy. It was much funnier to see him in a tizzy when he was younger. Now that he was just a little older-two years to be exact-it brought her no particular joy to see him so miserable. So vulnerable.

Besides, Piper was not one for verbal abuse. No. She was one to talk people's problems away from her specifically, and then have them suddenly crave some veggie-tomato-panini made at a restaurant a couple miles away.

She bit her lip and looked around the hanger. She knew she couldn't untie him, not until the boys return after searching the area. Piper scratched her head and sighed as she realized that everyone would be gone for more than half an hour. What were the odds that she would find him of all people and be the one to catch him?

She counted on her fingers. Well, she didn't know the odds exactly, but she knew they were pretty slim. "Octavian?" No response. He kept still, his back to her as he continued to give her the silent treatment. She narrowed her eyes as she realized how his shoulders seemed a little broader now. Suddenly Piper had an idea. They both did a lot of running, so he might be as hungry as she was.

The gravel-like-sand that invaded the overgrown area crunched and squished under her boots as she clomped her way towards the boy, digging through her jacket's pocket.

Hearing the wrapper's crinkle, the boy glanced her way. Piper was squatting, using the table as support as she held out a Nature Valley dark chocolate chewy bar. His stomach growled and he looked away swiftly.

"Oh come on!" Piper rolled her eyes and got underneath the table, her eyes turning a darker mint grey under the purple shade. The place was a beaten up air hanger, she was sure of it. It had to be. What other place would have yellow luminescent painted lines streaking the floor parallel to the large rectangular door.

It had large windows that early morning sunlight beamed into, the shattered remains fragmented the light and it hit and illuminated random object, like an old rusty red 1980s buggie and a few tools. German writing was spray painted on the walls about 100 years ago.

But it was the shards of glass that were everywhere that she was worried about. She had to gingerly brush away some with her jacket sleeve before she sat down beside the blond. "You're hungry, at least eat."

Still no response.

"Fine. I'll eat mine." She took out another one and unwrapped it. She noticed how he fidgeted when he heard the crimple of the shiny metallic paper. A slow grin appeared on her face.

"So Octavian. You're still not going to eat?" Silence. "Not even going to eat the chewy bar I gave you?" Silence. "Well then. I'll just give the other one to Jaso-"

"N-No!" the blond stuttered, he bit his lip so hard, Piper almost thought he was going to draw blood. "I'll eat it... If I can still..."

"Have it?"

"...Yes." Piper smiled and held her chewy bar with her teeth while unwrapping Octavian's. He raised a brow.

"That isn't lady-like-"

"D-vo you vant tha bar or nlot!" Piper interrupted.

Pale blue eyes looked the girl up and down critically, "I'll pretend that I understood that." He bit into the bar and thankfully didn't speak again when he finished it. He licked his lips and then rested his head on his knee as he looked at the wide entrance of the hanger.

Piper ate her bar in the morning's silence, the odd bird chirp dotted the chill crisp air as leaves whirled by just beyond the gaping hanger entrance.

It was then Piper noticed. That here, down in the shadows, the lights looked a lot brighter.

"Hey, Octavian?" The boy didn't answer, but Piper knew he was listening. "Did you ever get the urge to switch back to using birds," she looked back at the scrawny blond, "You know, instead of ripping teddy-bears."

She tried to laugh, but the serious look he held, it just died in the soft cold air. They were both silent for a while. Pale blue eyes studying, who knows what.

"Yes... " He spoke softly, as if in a daze. Piper noticed how the his lips relaxed, and how the purple shade of them matched the purpling hue of his swollen cheek bone. It was glistening painfully.

_I really shouldn't have hit him that hard... Who in the world hits people with a rusted wrench?_

Piper cursed herself mentally, biting her lip in the process. A few strands of hair curled down into her eyes and she sighed.

And then...

And then, she felt something soft brush her cheek. Looking up from the gravel she saw a pale hand brush them behind her ear. The cuts that the nylon rope made were evident. Fleshy, red and so tender. Slowly, her eyes found the pocket knife he had in his other hand, and her mouth moved first before her wits. "Why?"

The blond remained silent. His pale blue eyes alien. Indifferent.

"Why didn't you switch back to using birds?" Piper asked softly.

Their eyes seemed to lock on to each other's. Not battling. Just gauging each other for... _something_. Some sort of change.

Octavian finally spoke, "I couldn't stand it."

"Stand what?" Piper tried to remain calm when the young man leaned in really close. Close enough for her to smell really strong mint.

"... How _free_ they are." Octavian whispered. He took the blade of the pocket knife and turned it slowly in front of the girl's face. Tracing it flatly over her bare neck, down to her exposed collar bone and then across her shoulder before collapsing it.

The knife retreated back with a _shink!_ And he took her hand and placed the knife in it before looking back up at her. His mouth open, as if to form the words he didn't know how to speak. "... And how vulnerable they can be."

Piper watched, numb, as the boy folded his long limbs as he sat back down again underneath the old metal table. The shadows fell over him, but curiously enough, he left his feet sticking out in the sharp sunlight.

The girl slowly sat down, a foot a way from the boy, eyeing the pocket knife and contemplating the trial her mother talked about. And whether or not it hand to do with Octavian.

A Blue Jay's song distracted her, and so she looked out at the bright light. The green rectangle of a window the opening of the hangar provided was mesmerizing. When Piper looked back, she saw how Octavian looked out too.

She saw how he looked out from the shadows. How those pale blue eyes, refracted light.

 

And so a demigod and Legacy sat in empty and fragmented peace.

 

 

 

 

|09|12|2015|

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _________________________________________
> 
> |-- Author's Note --|
> 
> Hey guys, hope you liked this!  
> I imagined that this might have happened if the Heroes had actually caught Octavian or something along their travels (He was chasing them by boat somewhat). I know it's a bit weird, but it's sort of tied in to what I think Octavian is ;3
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Don't forget to vote and comment ^^  
> _________________________________________


	2. THE SENATE HOUSE FEATHER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pesky girl with a pesky feather makes a scowling scarecrow smile.

 

 

Octavian was back at the giant table and the wall library in the room. He was relaxed here, often moving from work to leisurely things like reading books, files, looking at maps... Lots and lots of maps.

In fact that is what he was doing now. He was sitting crossed legged in the middle of the map as he reviewed the South Americas.

Piper, having had a dream about stuffed animals coming to life last night, walked to the Senate House; it wasn't a pleasant dream, but it did remind her of her personal job. To follow Octavian. Sure, people might call it "stalking," but the truth was...

Okay, yeah, Piper admitted it was stalking.

But it wasn't without justification. The boy had to be watched. She had caught a glimpse of him in the Senate House alone one night and he was acting like a Grade A Troublemaker.

As she made it up the white stone steps, she saw a dim yellow light winking at her from inside the large dark window. Back inside the Senate House, Octavian was up to no good, as Piper saw it.

But unbeknownst to her, Octavian was having more trouble than making it. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't find it.

Nothing.

Nothing followed that creed that came to him in blood a few weeks ago. He searched the map for something remotely similar, but he knew he wouldn't find anything. Closing his tired eyes, the teenager held his face. "Rawr..." He exhaled heavily.

Quickly sneaking a look inside, Piper saw Octavian...And _maps_!? "First teddy bears, now map...?" The girl raised her brow, "I wonder what else he's obsessed with..." She muttered quietly, ducking behind some bushes, she managed to maintain a good view.

Octavian scratched the back of his head and shook it slowly. Rolling up the map he thought of where else he could search. He placed the rolled up piece of paper neatly behind the bookshelf. "Where is that now...?" He found a book the size of his torso with pages yellowed with age. He set the white book down with a huff and flipped through it gently.

'What is he looking for?', the girl thought. She squinted, but it was impossible to see. Leaning forward, Piper accidentally banged her head against a window. And cursing, she quickly lowered herself back into the bushes.

Octavian looked around, and then spun swiftly on his heels. He closed the book and searched the window and then the rest of the room with his eyes, trying to pinpoint where the sound came from. He took a breath and then put the book away. "I hope I'm not hearing things now..." He tapped the table in irritation but bit his lip.

'That was so stupid. Idiot. Now he's going to look for me'. Her thoughts sped along in her mind, escalating the panic. She tried to conceal herself as much as she could, glad it was windy so the bushes looked like they were rustling because of the wind and not her.

Octavian tilted his head and went over to the windows. It was early and the meetings wouldn't take place until a couple of hours.

Slowly he made this way to the large pained windows; his hands pushed them open and with a creek he let wind bustle inside the large room. Restoring and replenishing the dull air that was inside.

The boy leaned forward, his hands on the large stone window sill, allowing himself to look out at the city. He closed his eyes, but the after image, the ghost, of the lights that dusted the city's profile seemed to stay seared into his eyelids.

It would have been horrifying when he was younger, but now he took solace in the phantom nebula made up of candles, home lights, street lamps, and possibly even a few stray night lights. He thought little of what that noise could have been as he calmed himself down, not knowing that the cause of said noise was right below his sharp pink nose.

Piper started shaking, her heart beating quicker than normal. She didn't want to get in an argument with Octavian again, knowing he would most likely yell at her for... 'stalking him'. She tried telling herself to calm down. She put her head against her knees and exhaled slowly and softly.

Piper had figured out, when she was younger, that sometimes people got the feeling that they were being watched --as if they could sense the presence of the onlooker-- so she didn't dare look at him.

Oblivious, Octavian chuckled at his foolish thoughts, shaking his head he said, "One day you'll lose your mind Octavian ole boy, and you're not going to find it again..." He smiled and went back to unfolding. He spread out a huge map on the ground, and as if he was in preschool again, he sat in the middle of it and took notes.

As soon as he left the window, Piper let out a huge sigh of relief. "Gods, why am I even doing this?" She asked herself, shaking her head. _'Well, may as well make myself useful while I'm here...'_ , she thought. And with that, she began re-braiding her hair.

Octavian's eyes searched the map but again came up with nothing. He sighed and suddenly squished his face in frustration. "Where are you...?" His eye brows curved in hungry desire as his memories of something branded into his mind came again, reminding him cruelly of something he pined for but could not have, or at least painfully seemed so...

Piper suddenly decided to do something which would probably risk her stalking Octavian again. She carefully undid a feather from her braid, her smile growing wider on her lips. Lifting the windowsill a millimeter apart, she carefully inserted it, letting the window slide noiselessly down. "If Octavian is smart enough..." Her voice trailed off as she digressed to her thoughts. _'I don't get it. It's almost like I want to be caught'_. Piper quickly dismissed the thought, and hid back into the bushes.

Octavian propped up his legs so he could rest his head on his knees. His eyes felt paper thin as he closed them, the warmth slid over his cold eyeballs slowly. And there was nothing he would have like more but some iced coffee.

But he laughed at that.

He was not going to reward himself for finding nothing again for the -what, _fifteenth_ time?!

During his weary contemplation, he, for some reason felt a heightened presence. He looked up to the window suddenly.

Nothing.

The wind was just whistling loudly through the narrow space of the pains.

He frowned and rubbed his eyes as he got up wearily; he walked over to the window and was about to shut it completely when he spotted something fluttering madly in between the space.

A vibrant blue feather.

He closed the window and tidied the place from its papery mess. Satisfied, he then sat down, with his hand under his chin as he twirled the feather in his fingers.

"That girl..." He remembered vaguely Jason's girlfriend and scowled. That fiend came to New Rome, having betrayed its location to its worst enemy, and worse yet, he brings a token of triumph in something so uncouth as love?"

But as his hatred smoldered, it ever so slowly died down to a licking flame, as he remembered how he spotted the mischivious girl following him some days ago. He remembered how he heard of her asking about him.

He could have sword that he had got her and all her little friends, this time with treason and spying on important affairs. However... -- Octavian closed his eyes and exhaled whatever anger he had left in his system. The girl, to his surprise, had asked if he was 'okay'.

Again, he felt the irresistible carress of a scowl on his lips, "I am your enemy... Enemies do not ask of their wellbeing..." Ticked off he threw a glance at the maps he had laid on the table, "They work to destroy it." Strangely, as he said this, he wondered why it sounded so tepid. So weak.

 _'I am tired... That is the only reason'_. He thought to himself and nodded half-heartedly. "That girl, she is so..." Octavian's voice was but a whisper, but he felt his lips halt, unable to finish the sentence due to the absence of completion back in his brain. "So, annoying..." He managed to say.

But even though he said so, he smiled openly as he watched the blue feather dance in between his slender fingers.

Piper hesitantly looked into the room after hearing the window close. She laughed quietly when she spotted the scrawny teenager with the feather. By his expression, she could tell he knew it was her.

As she laid back, her back to the cold stone wall as she sat in the grass, she wondered if it was safe enough to reveal herself.

Looking up at the stars that twinkled in the night sky, she knew for some reason, she felt the need to hold back. To let him find her himself.

Her eyes looked on the dusted skies and took in its barren beauty as one would a bare land. One of unexplored tastes and sounds and sights.

Her kaleidoscope eyes found the constellation she stared at when she sat here some nights. A new and strange one that Annabeth has insisted was named Zoe.

She knew she wasn't going to wait for Octavian under the cover of nightfall; the beauty Queen knelt in soft dew, looking in the soft golden lit window, to watch the Legacy twirl her feather daintily between his fingers.

To witness his soft smile.

 

 

 

09|12|2015|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _________________________________________
> 
> |-- Author's Note --|
> 
> This was extremely fun to write and edit! The concept, as I said at the top, was made by accident really So that only makes things double the fun!   
> I'm glad I met you Jenny!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Don't forget to vote and comment :)  
> _________________________________________


	3. THE YELLOW SCARF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When love and friendship can the woven together with the twine of an old yellow scarf.

There was little to say.

All that _was_ to be said had already _been_ spoken through tender lips, pursed in tense distress of what was to come next.

In other words, Octavian realized that Piper's question had gone unanswered and not only did that upset her, the weight of the silence that hung about in their midst was starting to make her fidget. And her anxiousness was getting annoying.

The burning leaves of oranges and reds flittered down as the trees themselves seemed to shiver, their bark contracting softly as the hollows within creaked with squirrels and their hordes of nuts. The hyper creatures ran about on the branch that stretched over the two and peered down at them; sitting on the old wooden park bench, the autumn wind nipping the bare napes of their necks.

Sniffing loudly, the blond stubbornly scratched idly at his pink frost bitten ear. "Piper there is literally no need to ask me that question." He cleared his scratch throat and tried to rub away the heat that seemed to sit on his tired eyes. He blamed his illness on the weather. He always got sick at this time of year.

_Everything was just so damn cold!_

Heaving, the boy sneezed into the air with an explosive puff. Rejecting the earthy and mossy scent that lingered on the wind— stuck in his nostrils. The sneeze managed to scatter the squirrels and the wind—to his defiant relief—and some random passerbys, whom had copiously began to giggle to themselves as the hastened their step.

Fair eyes followed them until the sound of their squishy wet footsteps no longer slapped on the slippery sidewalk, dampened by chilling autumn rain.

Octavian swore under his breath as he looked away from the supple blush that stroked Piper's cheeks and elegant jawline. He didn't understand how his eyes were so charmed—captivated—by the stillness and figure of this petty girl. And little did he understand why it was so funny that he was sick.

Piper wasn't one to giggle though. She blinked rapidly at him, and then in one way or another, averted her eyes to the left—like she meant to remain firm in her fierceness, but failed, and then reluctantly retreated her eyes' gaze to something else.

'Something else of more interest, perhaps', thought the boy. His hard stare wore away at her patience. With burning questions just embers in her wake, Piper faced him once more. But he spoke before she did, his frosty scrutiny melting quickly under her intent watch. "I will not answer any questions with the theme of family." Octavian wrinkled his nose in disapproval, "This is the third time you've asked me about them... Why do you—why _should_ you care?"

"Because I am curious?" The pretty girl tried him, but he refused to play along.

"Well, _kill_   that curiosity." Facing the icy black asphalt of the frozen road, he turned his concentrations to the people who, wrapped in thicker clothes, scarves, boots and wooly cardigans, busily made their way up and about the streets. "Curiosity never lead to any good anyway..." He mumbled softly into his scarf and wished, for once, that the stupid old yellow scarf didn't smell like the grape juice his little cousin had spilled on it last year.

"And—Ah!" Octavian screamed a bit in surprise as he jumped to his feet.

"What?" Piper raised a brow and slipped down the bench, the black jeans that she wore making a squeaky sound as she did so in earnest. Octavian almost dreaded what was coming next. "I was just looking!" She exclaimed. "Why do you have to be so—"

"Jumpy?" Octavian cut her off in a fit of anger, "Jumpy—I'm not jumpy." His pale cheeks grew red when the girl laughed at him.

She patted on the bench—quite roughly—and told him to sit. "Octavian. I was only looking." She explained to him and pointed at his scarf, "It's a pretty yellow. I was just surprised that you'd wear something so..." Her voice trailed off.

"So...?" He asked.

"I dunno, old and cute." Piper shrugged, the loose crème cardigan shuffled and slipped on her shoulders. Drawing Octavian's attention. Piper went on, "I mean, it's a really pretty yellow. I reminds me of a canary feather!"

"Oh, of course you would know that." Sighed Octavian, "You put all manner of junk in your hair."

Piper wagged her index finger at him and mocked his resolve as she spoke in a high snobbish nasal voice, that oddly reminded him of his Aunt Julia, "No, no, no, dear Octavian. Not so! Only the most prime feather are allowed. Ex-clusivity, as you know."

"What's with you and feathers?" Octavian spat angrily.

"What's with you and family?" Piper teased.

In the end, he lost the will to continue, and he knew that she sensed his defeat. "Could you just butt out, okay?" Octavian retorted. He glared at the ground, "You wouldn't last one minute in my family." After a few seconds of silence, he glanced up and bit his lip.

Piper frowned, shrugged, and then grinned. She had won one over him. He had slipped up, and now she had more information to speculate with.

Octavian would have gave her a few choice words for Piper, but her smile distracted him. That crazy bright smile lit up her cheeks like a fire would to a damp worn wood; and if it were to last more than it did, Octavian would have had made the situation much worse than it already was—for himself.

His blue eyes took in that fire hungrily. Wide as they were, they refracted the soft light of the evening and left them with an orange-ish tint. Leaving both of them to look into each other's eyes. Both for different reasons. Both for touch's un-reason and specks of copper amongst the churning icy eye's allure.

And in that moment, unchanged splintered icy eyes, shattered from birth, refracted the light held in the changing kaleidoscope ones below them; and soon Octavian's hand found itself moving by its own volition. So rich and beckoning was the warm caress of pale finger tips as they traced the line of the girl's jaw gently.

Breath quickened and sighs drawn out to die in bare air. Un-worded captivity captured the two.

And within a second, it was all but gone.

The palpable heartbeat that racked their chests and wrought them so mighty, so brave, so gentle an affection, that it was only fleeting and sweet an air, a taste, of closeness the two shared. Their faces only a nose apart, they blinked.

But instead of pulling away, Piper spoke softly; and Octavian could almost taste the mint that passed from her lips to freeze in frigid air as dainty clouds, as delicate words, "Why aren't you with your family?" She whispered.

And as she did, the blond nearly caught the faint touch of her words on his lips, as if the retched cold he hated so much had condensed her letters—her bold question—into kisses.

At first, he stuttered, but removing his hand from her cheek in order to retain and conceal the unbearable need or want of more of this intimacy—as he knew of strange love that could drive men mad from one strain of innocent curiosity, or by the best of all its other names, un-shaped desire—The boy cleared his throat. "I-I don't know what you mean."

Piper stepped forward and peered into his stubborn face, "It's Thanksgiving, Octavian..." She notified him of the obvious. "You should be with them. Telling them how you survived."

"I can't." He said.

"Why not?" Piper asked, confused at his seriousness.

"Ask me another question." He stated blankly.

Piper crossed her arms over her chest and took a good while to ask her question. "Where did you get this scarf from?" She held the stranded end of the knitted woolen yellow scarf, surprised at how soft it was. "Wait, what are you—?" Before she could finish, already, she felt the warmth embrace her.

Octavian unwrapped and rewrapped his canary yellow scarf. Revealing its true length. How it wound around both the two teenager's necks comfortably and linked them in the middle with a bow of the scarf's bridge.

Piper quickly glanced up at Octavian, but the boy's face was unreadable this time. Dazed and soft, his gaze lingered on her. "Grandfather used to do this with Grandma, you know, when they went walking in the cold together in the morning." He spoke softly, so Piper thought she had got her answer. But he wasn't finished.

He drew a breath while trembling a while and then exhaled shakily, "Piper, I can't... I can't ever go back." He shook his head slowly as his cheeks glistened, "I put them in so much pain and danger before... Not again..." He swallowed loudly, "Never again." He insisted and she nodded as she understood.

She decided to remain quiet for the rest of the walk, now that their bench talk was over. So the only thing she was left to wonder about was the softness of the scarf. And how it joined the two of them in fuzzy, grape-juice scented, warmth.

–In fluffy yellow mellow.

 

 

11/26/2015

_________________________________________  
**_|-- Author's Note --|_**

Do you notice _the trend_?

That's right! Most of these stories are going to be soft little romances, or nuances of friendship.

So get ready for some morethemedchapters. _Oh, and if you ever want to suggest a theme for me, tell me below in the comment section! It'll be fun to hear from you :)_

**Thanks so much for reading!**  
Don't forget to vote and comment :)  
_________________________________________

#Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

> _________________________________________
> 
> |-- Author's Note --|
> 
> Hey guys, hope you liked this!   
> I imagined that this might have happened if the Heroes had actually caught Octavian or something along their travels (He was chasing them by boat somewhat). I know it's a bit weird, but it's sort of tied in to what I think Octavian is ;3
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!  
> Don't forget to vote and comment ^^  
> _________________________________________


End file.
